Tyla's stomach felt as though it were filled with snakes. That simple night of meeting with Ricky had quickly spun out of control and now he'd somehow found his way not only back to the Thieves Guild, but in their covert employ.

Cheeks reddening at that simple thought, his pace slowed. Surely his new compatriots across town were still preparing the specifics of their heist, but the less Tyla knew, the better. "Plausible deniability" was his watchword, and a bombastic and generous his appearance at the Hairy Cod would hopefully put some distance between him and the goings-on at the Church of the Eye. If these brothers-in-arms were somewhat still in the dark on their contractor, that was all for the good.

Pausing at the next corner, he surreptitiously checked his coin purse, hoping he had enough goodwill to stretch these rilks into several rounds. Perhaps a gratis performance could balance the scales with Sir Harry...

A quick, silent prayer to the Bakkus, god of mirth and wine, and one to the Lord of Chance for good measure, and he set off again.

Nearing the door to the Cod, Tyla noticed some familiar faces in the square. A smattering of dock workers and some merchant-shippers from the eight cities. Certainly, these talkative sailors could be counted on for boisterous song and matching his generosity. With any luck, the Beggars Guild would have some members nearby, further solidifying Tyla's alibi.

Affixing his most genial smile, Tyla burst through the door. "An ale to the sailor with the most preposterous tale of sea monsters!"